Painting Flowers

I must've woken up with hangovers at least a dozen times. But that didn't mean that I'd gotten used to them, and I certainly wasn't immune to them after all the ones I'd had.

So when I felt myself stir awake with an absolute killer headache, I could only groan and stuff my face into the pillow beneath my head, squeezing my eyes shut and praying that this hangover would just fuck off. Well, I guess it was my fault for getting drunk last night; I couldn't even remember what had happened, and I just hoped I hadn't smashed a window or anything, 'cause I was so not paying for that.

"Hey, sleepyhead," a voice laughed from beside me, and I felt my body freeze. Had I had sex last night with someone? "God, you look like you got ran over by a truck."

Okay. So I was in a bed with somebody, with, I realised, their arm wrapped around my waist. Right, yeah, I'd probably fucked someone last night. I turned my face over to look at them and apologise with a, 'yeah, sorry, I was drunk, you're lovely, it was me, not you, keep in touch,' and all that shit, but I stopped when I saw Alex smirking down at me.

Alex?

Oh.

Shit.

"Um," I said, gulping and rubbing at my aching forehead. His hair was all ruffled up and he was shirtless, scratching his toned stomach with a free hand. Okay. Okay, don't panic. You fucked your best friend who you kind of maybe have a crush on. No biggee. Right? "Wh... um..."

He laughed, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled over at me. "Hey."

Hey? We had sex and all he could say was 'hey'? Well, fuck. "Uh, Alex... last night, I... I, um, I was really drunk, I, like, didn't mean anything I did..."

I saw his smirk falter slightly. "What?"

"I don't remember anything," I told him, wincing as a shot of pain burst through my thumping head. "Ow, fuck. But, um, if I, like, said anything or did anything, I didn't mean it, 'cause, like, I was so wasted. So, um..."

By now he was downright glaring at me. "What's that supposed to mean? You kissed me, did you, like... not want to?"

Oh. God, this was going to be awkward. "I kissed you," I repeated, letting that sink in. I kissed him. Oh my god, I kissed him, and I didn't even remember it. "Right, well-"

"Are you..." he interrupted me, but then he stopped, snatching his arm away from around my hips like I'd just burned his skin. "Are you just going to pretend that nothing happened?"

I sighed and let my eyes slip closed for a moment. "I think it would be better for both of us if, like, we try and forget about this. I mean, we had sex, and I was drunk, we shouldn't want to remember that, right?"

And by the look on Alex's face, I could tell that he was angry. No, scratch that, fucking mad. "We didn't have sex, you idiot."

Wait. What? "We didn't have sex?" I questioned, and Alex nodded. "Well, then... why am I in... whosever bed this is, naked next to you? And why did you have your arm around my waist if we didn't fuck?"

Alex scoffed. "You're not naked. You've got boxers on. Plus, don't flatter yourself. We didn't have sex because, like you said, you were drunk and I knew you wouldn't want to if you were sober." Debatable, I thought. "But then you got angry when I tried to stop you from, y'know, going down on me, and it was, like... I don't know, I thought you were going to rape me, because you were being all rough and trying to fucking tear my clothes off when I said I didn't want to. Honestly, it was kind of scary. But then I eventually got the message through your thick skull that I didn't want to have sex with you yet, and you just... stopped. Then you fell asleep, and I fell asleep too."

I felt the bile rise in my throat as Alex spoke, and when he'd finished, I stood up from the bed I'd blacked out on, ignoring my dizzy head and staring down at Alex who was wrapped up in the sheets. "I tried to rape you," I whispered, and I was filled with this sudden sense of self-hate and disgust. Out of all the fucking times I'd wanted to have sex with somebody, I'd never ever try to rape them or force them into anything. But here was Alex, looking up at me with worried eyes and his teeth pulled over his bottom lip.

"Well, like, it wasn't full-on rape, y-"

"What's the difference between rape and 'full-on rape'?" I questioned, and it was safe to say I was kind of freaking out. "Oh my god. Shit. Shit shit shit motherfucking shit, I'm a disgrace."

Alex hoisted himself up so he was sitting against the backboard, the sheets pulled around his waist. "No, Jack, you're not a disgrace. I, like... It was kind of a shitty thing to do, I'll admit that, but... god, I loved kissing you. I've been waiting to do that for as long as I've known you."

I could feel this strange, twisted anger spinning up from my feet, engulfing my body and trying to split me apart at the seams. "That's not fucking okay, Alex! You can't just... you can't say I nearly fucking raped you and then just go on and say that you'd wanted to do it for so long! God fucking dammit." I lashed out, kicking the bedside table and seeing a photo frame fall onto the surface with a smash, a dull, throbbing pain aching in my toes but my mind elsewhere.

"Jack, please calm down, it's okay-"

"That's the thing!" I all but yelled. "It's not okay! And you're only saying it is because apparently you've wanted to do this for months, but, like, it's still fucked up beyond belief."

He frowned at me from the safety of the mattress. "Dude, I don't care. It's fine. Honestly. We didn't do anything, I stopped you before we could, y-"

I interrupted, "No, but you shouldn't have had to stop me, 'cause I shouldn't have been fucking doing it in the first place! And I know I'm an awful person for, what, getting on top of you and trying to make you get me off and whatever, but you should've just shoved me away! As soon as I came up to you, you should've just went, 'no' and stopped me from kissing you or anything. Then we wouldn't been in this fucking mess."

He sighed, reaching up and pulling at the strands of dark hair waving down from his scalp, like I knew he did when he was exasperated. "It's not even a mess," he said. "God, you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Okay, so, look, we kissed. And... I liked that. I liked kissing you. But I didn't want us to have sex, so I stopped you there, so don't turn this on me when I was the one who stopped you from taking my virginity when I wasn't ready yet. That would've been worse, right?"

"Yes, it would've been worse, but that doesn't mean that this isn't bad," I snapped, and I started pacing the room in an effort to find my discarded clothes so I could hurry up and get the fuck out of here. "You do realise I could've gotten arrested if I'd went through with... y'know...?"

Alex rolled his eyes. Of all things, he rolled his fucking eyes at me, and it angered me a little- okay, a lot -how he could just act like a moody little bitch, even at such a serious time. "You're sixteen, you'd've only gone to juvie. And I wouldn't have turned you in or anything, anyway. I'm a better friend than that."

Yeah, of course he was a good friend when he just wanted to make out with me. With a sudden sinking feeling in my gut, I realised that maybe the only reason Alex wanted to know who I was was so he could make out with me, and I stopped my pacing to glare at one of the bedroom walls. Oh shit. If that were true, I'd probably fucking punch somebody's head in (most likely Alex's).

I turned around to look at him, my eyes narrowed and a scowl obvious on my face. "Did you only become my friend so you could get with me and we'd make out? Because that is the shittiest thing I could possibly imagine, and plus, I'm not a fucking faggot."

I watched how Alex flinched a little as I spat out the last word. He seemed frightened, but my body was too on fire with anger and confusion and fear and the strongest case of every emotion that I could ever recall having. "No," he said. "No, I became your friend because you were funny and you liked my company. Me falling for you was a whole different story."

"God fucking dammit, don't talk about this like it's romantic! It's not! It's fucked up, Alex, two friends should not wake up next to each other after a night of making out on some strangers bed!"

He shot me a glare. "Yeah, which brings me onto my next point. You fucking jumped on me like a predator last night, and you kissed me like you wanted to be loved. And the way you held me and made me feel like I actually fucking mattered, just for five fucking minutes, it made me feel so... I don't even know, incredible. And you would not kiss me and touch me like that as a friend, even if you were wasted. I know you wanted it."

I scoffed. "You don't know shit, Alex. I'm not gay, I don't like guys like that, you don't seem to get that! Last night was a fucking mistake, alright, and I wish it had never happened."

That left Alex silent, and I could see that he had his jaw clenched tightly closed, eyes narrowed until they were practically slits. His stare made me unsettled, so I reached down, pulling my clothes up from a pile on the floor and shoving them on quickly, not even pausing to check if my jeans were on the right way. "You are so unsympathetic," he told me after a while, and I looked up from getting my shoes on to see him still in the same position, and I swear to god, I saw his eyes glassed over. "You are the fucking- you are horrible. You don't even care."

I looked down to tie my shoelace. "Yeah, well," I murmured. Knot. Double bow. Knot. Knot. Then I stood up and cracked the fingers on each hand, earning a disgusted look from Alex. "I'm going."

"We have so much to talk about, though!" he said, his voice almost cracking with the anger I was obviously causing him. "You can't just walk away from your problems like this!"

I shrugged, turning on my heel and heading for the bedroom door. "Too late. Don't look for me."

As I descended the stairway of Danny's house, I heard Alex scream, "you're a fucking coward!", but I just ignored his high-pitched voice and stormed out the front door, slamming it behind me to the dismay of all the hungover people unconscious in the hall. My only focus was getting home and passing the fuck out again, and obviously not speaking to my best friend if he fucking begged me too. I fucked up, he fucked up, we really needed some time apart.

Halfway home, I realised I was wearing Alex's shirt.